


to the stars through difficulties

by pastelcandies



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, LGBTQ+ Cafe, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Read the notes for tws, Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Unsympathetic Deceit Sanders, coffee shop AU, someone take away my writing privileges, this has both more and less angst than I intended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelcandies/pseuds/pastelcandies
Summary: Having been friends for years, Logan Phan, Patton Willow, and Roman Sanchez now live together, running their café Shining Pride, a safe space for all queer people. Of their many regulars, two  in particular catch their eye; Virgil, a quiet person with concerning habits, and Remy, an enby who’s passionate about everything, both seeming to carry the stars with them wherever they went. Somehow, the five get along, forming a closer bond than any of them had expected. Yet as they grow closer, the more everything seems to both fall apart and come together.
Relationships: Abusive Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Remus “The Duke” Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Eventual SLAMP, SLAMP
Kudos: 29





	1. prologue

One of the regulars, currently the only customer at the cafe, sat at the window, so close his breath fogged the glass. He held his cup of black coffee in his long thin fingers, occasionally taking a sip with a mild look of disgust on his face, an abandoned book lying on the table. Quite honestly, he looked terrible, as though he hadn’t slept for weeks; he was exceptionally thin and pale, a large black jacket with purple patches hung off his thin frame, a black beanie covered his soft brown hair, there were dark shadows underneath his eyes accentuated with purple eyeshadow. He looked broken, but there was a strange sort of beauty in his odd appearance. 

He was a mystery to Logan. Unlike other regulars (such as Remy, whom the memory of brought a quickly forced down smile to Logan’s face) he rarely spoke; his schedule was erratic, but he generally came in a couple times every week or so; he always ordered black coffee, but grimaced at every sip, and never finished; he constantly checked his watch, and had a look of panic when he left. 

He tapped his fingers - painted with chipped black nail polish - on the table, eyes glazed over, deep in thought. Eventually, Logan made his decision, and strode over to the customer’s table. 

“Hello,” he started. The man startled out of his daydream, appearing so alarmed Logan felt guilty for interrupting his thoughts. “My name’s Logan, I am one of the owners of this cafe. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” He held out his hand, and after a tentative second, the stranger shook it.

“I’m Virgil.” He answered, so quietly it was practically a whisper, refusing to meet Logan’s eyes.

“Ah, well Virgil, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I have to ask, is there an issue with your coffee?”

“No! Uh, no, it’s fine, I like black coffee” He responded hurriedly.

Logan smiled gently. “I noticed you were reading a book on astronomy. You have an interest in those sorts of things?”

“Yeah, I mean, I just started studying it, but it’s interesting.” Virgil replied softly, still not looking Logan in the eye. For such an intimidating customer, he certainly was soft-spoken.

As the two continued to discuss such things, Logan was entranced by the gentle smile on Virgil’s face. As he grew more comfortable in their conversation, he started looking Logan in the eye. His eyes were a shade of silver blue Logan had never seen in anyone before. Rarely could he remember enjoying a conversation with a new person as much before. 

As there was a lull in the conversation, Virgil taking a sip of his now cold coffee - and wincing - he casually glanced at his watch, and his eyes widened. Immediately his smile shattered and his expression twisted into full blown panic. His coffee cup was shaking in his hand. 

“I need to leave.” He choked out, sounding as if he were struggling to breathe. 

He ran out of the cafe, leaving his book and unfinished coffee on the table. Logan stared at his empty seat in bewilderment.

_______________________

The next week, during a rare period of calm where Patton had nothing to do, he leaned against the counter, absentmindedly fiddling with his apron strings. Hearing the door open, he stood straight up to see the new customer; a rather short (though still taller than himself) man in a too-big hoodie with purple flannel patches.

“Oh!” Patton jumped, flapping his hands in excitement, his shout startling the customer. “You’re the person Logan was describing! Who left his book here! Hold on a second, it’s in the back, I’ll go grab it!”

Patton returned to the very bewildered and startled young man, handing him his book. “Oh, thank you.” He mumbled.

“It’s no problem at all, kiddo! Now, for your order, what can I get for you?”

“Small black coffee, thanks.” He requested, focused on taking out his wallet, once again refusing to make eye contact.

Watching him read his book by the window, grimacing when he took a sip of his coffee, Patton wondered if there was a way to politely find out if he was drinking it black for medical reasons so he could sneak some cream and sugar in if not. He and Roman were used to doing it for Logan, after all. 

“Have a nice gay!” Patton grinned at his own joke as he said it to the departing customer a few hours later. The kiddo gave him a weak smile as he quickly removed the pronoun pin customers were offered and left the cafe, moving too fast to call it walking and too slow to call it running.

_______________________

Roman glanced at the new customer in concern. He had seen him before and Logan and Patton had mentioned him in passing, but his appearance was concerning. There was a bruise on his cheek, his sleeves were baggy sweater paws, which potentially meant nothing but Roman had a horrible feeling it didn’t, and the shadows under his eyes were as dark as bruises. Behind the scowl and concerning appearance, he was… very pretty. Delicate freckles dotted his cheeks, he had bright silver-blue eyes, and nails painted black like Logan’s. In an odd way, he reminded Roman of an elegant black cat. 

Oh no, he was walking towards the counter. Roman had to talk to him. 

“Welcome! What can I get for you?” (If only Isabella was able to work today, he wouldn’t be having a gay panic.)

Fortunately or unfortunately, it remained to be seen, the cute regular didn’t seem to be having this same crisis. Without looking Roman in the eye, he stated monotonically, “One small black coffee, thanks.”

“Excellent, will that be all?” Roman asked, still internally screeching.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Roman made his coffee, debating if he should pull the  cliché of putting his number on the napkin. In the end, he didn’t, simply placing the drink on the table and calling “Virgil!” It did not help his gay heart that he had a very pretty name.

Once again, Virgil didn’t seem to be having remotely the same thoughts as Roman; he took his coffee, thanked him quietly, and sat down, scrolling through his phone. 

Watching him wince at every sip, but scared that if he tampered with the order Virgil would get hurt, inspiration struck. He set a chocolate chip cookie on a napkin and called, “Virgil!” once again.

The man in question glanced over, confused. “I didn’t order that.” 

Roman beamed at him.  _ God _ , he was adorable. “Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”

Virgil watched him apprehensively for a bit before taking his treat and walking back to his table, the tiniest hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. Not bothering to hide his grin, Roman snatched his phone out of his pocket.

[princey] y’all know that regular virgil who always orders black coffee then looks disgusted when he drinks it

_______________________

Remy entered the cafe, sighing inaudibly when je saw it was crowded and all seats were full. As usual, je walked up to the counter with a ridiculously long drink order, feeling only the smallest bit guilty when je watched the cashier internally screaming as je recited his order. Receiving jer order, Remy’s eyes narrowed behind jer sunglasses as je observed that there was only one seat left. Resigned to jer fate, je strolled up to the table in the corner, occupied by a short man in an oversized black and purple hoodie and black headphones, who was absorbed in staring out of the window, phone laying forgotten in his hand.

Tapping jer long gold nails on the table, Remy watched the stranger jerk out of his reverie.

“Mind if I sit here, hon? Only seat left.” Remy drawled, taking a sip of jer coffee.

The stranger stared at jem for a few seconds, silver-blue eyes wide, before managing to answer, “Yeah, sure.” and picking up his phone again.

“Thanks, girl.” Remy drew out jer own phone to scroll through tumblr while drinking jer coffee. A couple minutes later, feeling eyes on jem, je looked up to see the stranger had been staring at him. His cheeks colored a delicate shade of pink when he made eye contact with Remy, who couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was.

“What’s your name, hon?” It took all of jer self control not to tease him, but je had the feeling that would scare him off.

Scowling, though the effect was ruined by the blush still on his cheeks, he muttered, “Virgil.”

“Hm, cute. I’m Remy, nice to meet you.” Je held out their hand, and after a quick second, Virgil took it, his cheeks colored even pinker. “Like your jacket.”

“What?” He scowled. Was he capable of making any other facial expression? “Oh, uh, thanks, I guess. I made it myself, mostly.” Behind the glaring, Remy noticed je had disarmed him by the compliment, like he wasn’t used to getting them. That was a shame; he was adorable, like an annoyed black kitten. Remy winked at him, receiving yet another glare in return. 

They spent the rest of their time together in comfortable silence, occasionally one looking up to gaze at the other, never at the same time, unnoticed by the other. 

Eventually, Remy finished jer coffee. “Nice meeting you, hon. It’s rare that someone in this cafe appreciates silence. Hope I see you again.” Je smirked at him, causing Virgil to turn to the side to hide his pink face.

“You too, friend.” Remy’s eyes widened, not expecting a response. Je frantically searched through jer pockets for jer phone; no way was je waiting until Emile came home to tell him about this.

______

Virgil entered the cafe, hands shoved into the pockets of his too-big hoodie, resisting the urge to bite at his fingernails, choosing instead to rub the fabric on the inside of his pocket. He fidgeted as he stood in line, hands shaking as he tried to attach the “he/him” pin to his hoodie, wondering why something he did so frequently - buying coffee at this cafe - was still so anxiety inducing. Once it was his turn, he ordered the same small black coffee he always did and triple-checked that it was his name on the cup once his name was called, as he was mildly terrified of taking someone else’s accidentally. Taking a sip, his eyes widened; cream and sugar had been added. He glanced at one of the workers, the pretty owner he had met a few weeks ago, racking his brains for his name. The two made eye contact, and the corner of the owner’s -  _ Logan’s _ \- mouth quirked upwards. Virgil walked back to his usual table, oddly touched. He startled for a bit when he noticed Remy was already sitting there. His mouth twitched into an almost imperceptible smile as he sat across from Remy, this time wearing a short black skirt and a “They/Them” pin, and pretended his face wasn’t pink when they smirked at him.

He took a sip of his coffee, no longer grimacing at the taste, stared at the soft gray clouds outside, and tried not to think about how soon he would have to go back. 

Here, if only for a short time, he was safe. Everything was okay here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr, snowfall-and-stars, and on discord, winter#0972


	2. cingulomania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is NOT vibing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is such a short chapter! I’ll work on making them longer.

Logan sat in his apartment, his book lying abandoned on his lap as he stared off into space. Normally, Patton would’ve been in here with him, demanding affection and attention, but not tonight, perhaps deciding to distract Roman instead. Logan hadn’t realized how much he craved the little bits of affection between him and his friend - running his fingers through his hair, lying his head on Patton’s lap, Patton falling asleep on his shoulder, little precious touches that Logan would never admit how much he adored. On occasion, Roman would come too, sprawling in both of their laps, clinging to at least one of them, or sometimes even dropping kisses on their cheeks or forehead. Was it normal to crave their touches, to crave their love like this? Was it… okay to wish that Roman would wrap his arms around him, to want someone to run their fingers through his hair? 

Logan didn’t like to admit he daydreamed, but in truth, he was quite the dreamer. One of his fondest, hidden from even Patton and Roman, was of Remy joining them, seeking attention and cuddles like the other two. He would shake his head when he caught himself thinking like that and would turn his mind to something more sensible, but tonight these thoughts were more persistent, and another had joined them; Virgil. Logan sighed down at his hands. When had he become so hopeless? Here he was, daydreaming about someone he had merely had a small conversation with and exchanged half a smile or two with. He subconsciously twisted his fingers in his lap, his thoughts climbing deeper into the clouds. 

______

Virgil had never felt as powerless in his life. It was as if he were drowning, trying to push himself up and grasping at anything he could, his grip faltering after seconds. Gripping at rose stalks, the only thing close enough for him to grab, blood dripped into the water, pierced by the roses’ thorns. He was bleeding, bleeding, bleeding, until the ocean he was struggling in was red. He let go, forgetting he was holding on to anything, to stare at his bloodied hands in horror.

“I didn’t mean to do it.” he gasped out, struggling to breathe, both from nearly drowning and from anxiety. “It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, but I didn’t mean to do it.”

Having nothing to hold onto, his legs like lead, unable to swim, he sunk below the ocean, the waves pulling him under with their coinciding gentleness and ferocity. He ceased struggling and allowed them to do it, knowing it was both what he deserved, and what he longed for more than anything; a release from his living hell.

Eyes flying open, his breaths heavy, he surveyed the total darkness of his room, shaking, before realizing it was only a nightmare.

No, not a nightmare. It wasn’t an unpleasant dream; no dream where he gets to experience his deepest desire could be defined as unpleasant. No sort of dream could be any worse than his life as it was now.

His cheeks weren’t wet, but when he turned and saw that he wasn’t alone in the bed, the tears came. As irrational as it might have been, every night Virgil begged the stars, or anything with any power that might be listening, that when he woke up,  _ he  _ wouldn’t be here, and he would be alone. Yet as much as he loved the stars, they didn’t seem to be listening to him.

What he craved beyond anything was any sort of contact with gentleness in it.  _ He  _ had no problems touching him, but they did it roughly, with no sort of real love behind their gestures. Touching them was like touching a burning flame. He had scarcely done anything in his life besides love, and he despised himself for feeling so deeply. He lived without any sort of love, only existing, not truly living, trying to move through day after day. Daily, he wondered what was keeping him alive, but never made any attempts to change that. He forced his eyes shut and begged his brain to sleep; the longer he could escape his reality, the better. He wondered when the ones who had lifted him out of the ocean he was drowning him became the weights determined to drag him below the surface.

_______

Virgil woke up again a few hours later, traces of their dream still lingering in his mind. They weren’t male today, not that Remus would care, the reminder of which sent a heavy feeling in their chest. They breathed a deep sigh of relief when they saw the other had already left. 

Finishing their morning routine, they packed their laptop, notebook, phone, and wallet into their old, beat-up messenger bag, painstakingly hidden from Remus in case he decided to get rid of it one day, and left the house, stepping as carefully and quietly as possible out of habit. Once they made it outdoors, their face broke into a rare smile in relief. 

Winter was their favorite season, and it was scarce that they were able to enjoy it in peace. Now, however, they huddled deeper into their hoodie and scarf, hair tucked under a beanie, and hands in their pockets, no longer bothering to suppress their smile as they watched tiny snowflakes flurry from the skies. It had been so long since they had been able to watch this; one of the few remaining little things that could still make them smile, that gave them a sliver of hope, gave way to the thought that maybe, one day in the future, everything would be okay. Their thoughts turned bitter as this musing led to painful memories of a younger Virgil, when they had been sure that, once they were older, things would get better and they would be okay. Now was the worst situation they had ever been in. Scowling at themself and determinedly ignoring the stinging in their eyes, they continued their walk to the cafe, the only place they still felt safe, and could get some work done at the same time. The cafe was one of the little things, like the snow, that gave them hope, though they would never admit how deeply they treasured the occasional smiles and conversations they received there. 

As they stood in line, they felt a vague sense of disappointment at seeing one of regular cashiers instead one of the owners they had previously met. They supposed they shouldn’t be surprised; clearly they had been understaffed or such those few days, but they enjoyed the small kindnesses in their few interactions. Of course, it meant nothing that their mood rose greatly when Logan, wearing a soft black cardigan with a transgender pride flag pin, a queer pride flag pin, and a “he/him” pin, gave them another one of his half-smiles as he placed more colorful pastries on the shelf. Nothing at all.

They headed to their usual seat in the corner, which was thankfully empty, and took out their laptop. Not even Remus knew about his stories; he knew they were a writer, but cared nothing beyond that. They had never discussed their stories with anyone before; despite planning to have them published, somehow it felt too personal to discuss them. It’s hard to discuss something you poured your soul into when people don’t understand just how much of you is woven into it.

They observed the soft noises around them; other customers having quiet conversations, drinks being poured, pastries being wrapped up, chatter from the workers, shoes tapping on the wood floor, a sip being taken, a page of a book being turned, clicking of laptop’s keys; it was simultaneously too loud and too quiet. They took a sip of their coffee, covertly sweetened, the thoughtful gesture bringing tears to their eyes, though he managed to keep them at bay, a skill he had quite a lot of practice with. Their fingers stilled and their mind ran amok, their eyes straying to the snowflakes falling from the dove grey clouds, sticking to the window, piling ever so slowly. Something so serene, it didn’t feel like it belonged in their fucked-up life, where they dreaded every step, where they wanted to lie on the ground and let snow cover them until they froze to death, where one move could open one of their scars, staining the fabric of their clothing, the screams of their partner echoing in their ears at the thought. He punished them for hurting themself by hurting them more. Eyes stinging, they placed their coffee down with a shaking hand, walking to the bathroom with trembling legs. Collapsing the second they reached the door, they drew their knees close to themself, tears falling thickly from their eyes. They were so weak, so stupid, this was one of the rare times they could have any sense of peace, and here they were, ruining it by hyperventilating and sobbing. They were so disgusting, so foolish. Their thoughts ran around in their head on repeat, screaming louder and louder, Virgil shaking helplessly on the floor.

It wasn’t until around ten minutes later they regained their breath, entirely and thoroughly drained. Internally disgusted with themself for being a weak bitch, they snatched a tissue and washed their face, removing the tear tracks and smeared eyeshadow. Taking a deep breath, they exited, mind still screaming at them with every step.

_ Everyone’s staring at you. They know every awful detail about you, and they’re all repulsed by you. How could you think you could make friendships with any of the people here? You’re disgusting, you’re loathsome, how could you even consider doing that to them? _

After what may have been either ten seconds or ten years, they reached their table and sipped their coffee again, significantly cooler than it had been before. Sitting down, they noticed a small paper bag with a peanut butter cookie inside, with,

_ “On the house, from Roman and Patton!” _

Written in sprawling red cursive, complete with a smiley face doodle. Such a tiny, sweet gesture filled their heart to the brim, that the two had remembered them and given something to them. Taking yet another deep breath, they opened their laptop and resumed their typing, their blood staining the pages. 


	3. update

I’m not very happy with how this au is turning out. I’m planning to clean it up more and change some of the details, so for now this is discontinued.


End file.
